I would have turned to glare at Kyla for her “brilliant” plan, but I was paralyzed. All I could do was watch with wide, and frankly scared eyes, as Dannon stood up, rubbing his head. His crew stared up at him. I saw their mouths move, forming words on their lips, but they were so far away that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But it didn’t matter. I knew what they were talking about. “What’s wrong, Dannon?” they were probably asking. “Are you okay?”
Dannon suddenly disappeared as he bent down. A moment he reappeared, the apple I’d thrown in his hand. He rubbed his head again, looking around the cafeteria. I wanted to shrink back, to hide myself inside the booth. But, sadly, my body wasn’t listening to me.
His eyes landed on me.
I cursed mentally as his eyes widened and he looked back down at the apple. He knew it was me that threw it. And now I was going to die.
Kyla tapped her fingernails on the booth’s tabletop (something she did when she was nervous), cutting off my imagery of my imminent death. I concentrated on each tap! struggling to forget about the fact that I’d just thrown an apple across the cafeteria because my friend told me to, and that I’d managed to hit the one guy I hated more than anything on the head. But I couldn’t forget. Not when Dannon was maneuvering through the various tables in the cafeteria, making his way toward us.
I found the strength to turn around, facing Kyla. With pretty much all the strength I had, I pushed my way as far as I could inside the booth, trying to sink into the wall. Too bad I wasn’t in one of those movies where teens had crazy superpowers.
Kyla’s eyes met mine, and we shared a terrified look. Then we both turned, trying to discreetly watch as Dannon drew closer. He had a smile on his face—that was a good sign, right?—and he was tossing the apple between his hands like I’d been doing before I did the stupidest thing of my life.
Thinking it would be the smarter thing to do, I picked up my plastic fork and shoved a bunch of noodles into my mouth. Yum. Noodles mixed with the sour taste of anxiety. Tasty.
“Hey,” Dannon said, reaching us. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he slid beside me, onto the booth’s seat. He set my apple onto my tray. “I think this is yours.”
I picked it up, eyeing it carefully. It was dented. Whether it was by his head or the floor, I didn’t know. I glanced at him. I could deny it. I could say that I had no idea what he was talking about, that he was crazy. I mean, he had no proof that I’d thrown it, did he?
Too bad my expression had given it away.
“Thanks,” I muttered softly, setting it back on the tray. I stole a nervous glance in Kyla’s direction. She was much too busy playing with her salad to notice me.
Dannon grinned, tilting his head to the side. “Is there a reason you threw it at me?”
He was amused. Another good sign, right?
I bit my lip before answering. I was ashamed of myself for how tiny my voice sounded. “I wasn’t aiming for you.”
Dannon chuckled, leaning back in the booth and stretching out his arms. I eyed him, curious. How could he be so cheerful? He’d just got an apple chucked at his head. I narrowed my eyes. He was probably faking it so that everyone thought he could handle anything lightly. That sounded like something a popular person trying to save their reputation would do. Though, on the other hand, his reputation didn’t need saving. I mean, the hundreds of gazes locked onto our booth right now proved it.
“Well, I feel bad for the guy you were aiming for,” he said finally, shooting me a smile. “Who was it?”
I rubbed my arm. I wished I was back in the awkward situation with Brent this morning. That was a million times better than this. “No one in particular.”
Dannon cocked an eyebrow. “So you threw it for fun?”
I shook my head, pointing at Kyla. “She told me to throw it.”
Dannon turned to Kyla. She shrank back in her seat, guilty as charged. For someone who usually couldn’t keep her eyes off the guy, she was having an awful hard time looking at him. It was like she thought he was going to blow up on her at any moment. I couldn’t blame her. I was kind of waiting for him to do that myself. “Hey,” he said cheerfully.
Kyla gave a nervous squeak that sounded something like, “Hi.”
Dannon turned back to me, the smile still plastered on his face. “And you listened?”
It was like he hadn’t paused to talk to Kyla at all. I groaned, putting my head in my hands. Way to make me feel more like an idiot than I already did. I wished that I could reverse time, maybe convince Kyla that she needed to rest or check into a mental facility. But, sadly, I couldn’t. “Um . . . .”
Dannon grinned. It was like he didn’t even notice how awkward we found this. “Well,” he said lightly, “you’re awfully lucky the cafeteria people aren’t here.”
I was quite aware. “Mhm.”
Dannon was silent for a moment—which was shocking enough all in itself. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. I picked at my food, wondering why he hadn’t left yet. I mean, he’d made his point. Why sit here and make chit-chat with two girls who were obviously not in the mood to talk to him?
Well, I wasn’t in the mood. Kyla was too scared.
Suddenly all my fear of him blowing up in our faces diminished and my usual irritation reappeared. I leaned back in my seat, shooting him an annoyed glance. “Why are you still here?” I demanded, a little more bluntly than I meant. From the corner of my eye I could see Kyla glare at me. Ah, so she was gaining more confidence too, huh?
Dannon wasn’t fazed by my hostility. “I’m finding motivation to leave.”
“How’s that working out?” I asked, thoroughly amused that someone like Dannon needed to find motivation to get back to his group. I mean, didn’t people like him need to be in the midst of people who appreciated his presence all the time?
“Horribly.” He smiled, turning to face me. His eyes landed on my apple sitting on my tray. “Hey, can I have your apple?”
I looked down at my apple and then back to him. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. Was he mocking me? “Uh . . . .”
“Please?”
I sighed deeply, tossing him my apple. “Whatever.”
I probably sounded rude, but I couldn’t help it. People like Dannon pissed me off. Flaunting in their popularity, soaking in the bliss of attention. Sure he smiled and acted like he didn’t care about it all, but it was all just a cover-up. He was just like the rest of the guy population. Irritating and selfish.
“Bri, be nice!” Kyla scolded, suddenly finding her voice.
Dannon, who’d just taken a bite of the apple, glanced at Kyla in surprise before looking at me. “Bri?” he murmured as though testing my name on his tongue. “Is that your name?”
Before I could stop myself, something bratty and all around rude spilled out of my mouth. “You’ve been going to school with me for over four years and you don’t know my name?”
I cringed inside. That was going a bit far, even for someone I despised. But I couldn’t apologize. I wanted to . . . I just couldn’t.
Dannon didn’t seem bothered though. He simply grinned as though I was hilarious. “Sure I do,” he said, smiling. “It’s Bri.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, okay,” I said, pointing my fork at him. “What’s my full name?”
Dannon scrunched his nose up, thinking his answer through. I leaned back, looking at Kyla. She shot me a pointed look. I shrugged, giving her a half-smile. No harm no foul. He didn’t get offended anyway. When did he get offended?
“Bri . . . anna?” he guessed finally, laughing.
I snorted, shaking my head. I couldn’t believe that for a moment I actually thought he was going to guess my name right. “Nope!” I said smugly.
“He was close,” Kyla piped in.
“Not close enough.”
“So what is your name then?”
I sighed, deciding to answer with the least amount of attitude as possible. “Brianne.”
“Sorry for Brianne’s rudeness,” Kyla apologized suddenly as Dannon opened up his mouth to answer, twisting her finger in her hair. She smiled at Dannon. “She isn’t really that good at speaking to the opposite sex.”
I rolled my eyes. She couldn’t have just said boys?
I cast a look around the cafeteria, irritation flaring. I didn’t like how everyone was staring at us. I didn’t like how girls were glaring at me and Kyla like they could murder us with their own hands. The effect Dannon had on people was outrageous.
Finally I turned to Kyla, shooting her a glower. “I do not!”
“She’s suspicious of boys,” Kyla continued as though I hadn’t spoken.
I scooped up some noodles and plopped them into my mouth. I chewed, trying to contain the anger I was feeling right now. She was acting like she did with one of her jerk boyfriends. Trying to seem cool and nonchalant. Trying to impress them. It was annoying.
I swallowed, staring at her. “And you babble when you think one of them is hot,” I retorted sourly.
Kyla’s eyes widened in horror. It was like I’d just shattered her reputation.
Dannon looked between us, obviously amused. He leaned back, twisting his arms out in front of him. “Hm,” he murmured, smiling in Kyla’s direction. “What’s your name?”
Kyla looked him up down as though testing to see if he looked at her any differently. He didn’t of course. Anything said about him seemed to bounce off. He didn’t really take in any compliments or stares or anything. It was really weird. “Kyla,” she answered after a moment, not bothered in the slightest that he didn’t know what her name was. It was like she expected it.
“Cool name!”
I discreetly rolled my eyes. For someone so popular, he wasn’t really good with names. Or compliments for that matter. But Kyla seemed appreciate that he thought her name was cool, for she smiled a large, toothy smile. “Thanks!” she exclaimed.
“You’re welcome,” Dannon replied, smiling back. He sure did smile a lot.
I had the sudden urge to tell him to leave. I wasn’t exactly sure where the urge came from. Maybe it was from the jealous death-stares that all the girls in the cafeteria were throwing us. Maybe it was the way Kyla was acting. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because I didn’t trust Dannon in the slightest. Sure he flashed his smile, acted all understanding, but that didn’t mean he was who he said he was.
People called my suspicion trust issues, but I called it being cautious.
Luckily, I didn’t have to. Kyla and I watched as Dannon stood up, still holding the apple in his hand. Huh. So he was actually going to eat it, was he? I realized that it fell on the floor and smiled. Ha. He was eating something off the floor. That was so gross.
“Well, it was nice talking to you guys,” he said, smiling at us. “I’ll see you later.”
And then he was gone, sauntering back to his table.
The second Dannon left, everyone’s gazes fell away from us. They went back to forgetting we existed, eating and chatting happily. Odd how this world worked.
I leaned back, feeling myself relax. Good. He was gone; life could go back to normal. “Finally,” I muttered, closing my eyes. I suddenly felt exhausted. Who knew that throwing an apple and having it hit the most popular guy in the school could be so exhausting?
“Oh, shut up, Bri!” Kyla snapped. She clutched her heart dramatically. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”
I sighed, leaning forward and letting my head fall in my hands. I dragged my hands down my face before bringing them through my hair. I shot a glare in her direction. “I almost did, too! Don’t ever do that to me again!”
Kyla nodded looking across the cafeteria. I followed her gaze and my eyes fell on Dannon now sitting back in his seat, chewing on my apple. She turned back to me, a giddy smile plastered on her face. She began jumping up and down, clapping her hands excitedly.
I stared at her, wide-eyed. “What?”
“You guys—you guys—” she struggled out, too excited to even speak. She was so weird sometimes. “You guys are destined now!”
Destined. Right.
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
“Mom, I’m home!”
I shut the front door behind me, sauntering inside and kicking off my shoes. I let my bag sag on my shoulders before moving forward, exiting the hallway and trotting into the living room. I threw my bag onto the tan couch in the middle of the room before flopping into it. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. The living room, constantly being painted to a different color, had pale green walls, decorated with a few pictures of the family. No one—excluding my mom—was a fan of taking pictures in the house, so there were barely any photographs to hang up.
In front of the couch was the flat-screen TV, standing on its very own television stand. Inside the stand were assorted DVD’s and video games. The games were probably collecting dust. I didn’t touch them. Garrett was the only one who ever took interest in that sort of thing.
My gaze slid to the two windows residing on the right wall, showing the wonderful view of my street. There, if you looked closely, you could see my yard, a tree with a pair of squirrels always arguing over a nut, and the other houses on the street.
It was so much better than the view in Paris, obviously.
“Hey!” my mom called.
I looked up. Her voice was distant, yet not distant enough to be upstairs—where all the bedrooms were. I stood, fixing my shirt before trotting across the living room. My eyebrows drew together as I called back, “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen!”
Well, that couldn’t possibly mean anything good.
My mom couldn’t cook. At all. Everyone in the family hated her food, and you could tell that she knew. But, she was persistently optimistic that she would get it right sometime. So, she kept cooking.
The last time she baked cookies, they came out black and crumbled when I poked one of them. The black stuff stayed on my finger and took forever to clean off. Just saying.
“Why?” I asked suspiciously, making my way to the kitchen. She’d probably made a mess.
“I’m making brownies!”
I entered the kitchen, my hands going to my hips. Well, she hadn’t destroyed the place, but she hadn’t exactly kept it clean, either. Dishes cluttered the sink, and what looked like batter was splattered on the counter. Which, made sense, since my mom was making brownies.
My mom, clad in a frilly apron in an attempt to keep her clothes clean, leaned against the counter, frantically mixing brownie mix. Her dark locks of hair were pulled into a messy bun as though she’d just thrown an elastic-band around her hair and called it good. She must have just randomly decided to cook.
“Mom.” I let my hands fall to my sides as I leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you cooking brownies?”
My mom turned, flashing a toothy smile at me. Her face was covered in brownie mix. “Because I want to try again!” she exclaimed gleefully. “I’m sure I can get it right this time.”
“And you didn’t clean off your face why?”
My mom sniffed, spinning around and grinning at me. “Because,” she replied hotly. “It’s the mark of a true chef.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I trotted over to the counter and plucked an apple from small fruit basket that sat near the sink. I grimaced as a thought of lunch flashed. I shook my head and the image vanished. “Yeah okay,” I said with a laugh as I took a bite of the apple. “You keep thinking that.”
My mom gasped in mock horror and then grinned mischievously. And then, before I could even register what she was doing, she flicked the whisk she was holding in my direction and splattered brownie mix on my sock.
“Ma!” I shrieked irritably, kicking my foot as though the sock was magically going to jump off and run away.
My mom laughed at me, returning to mixing her already-mixed brownie mix. “Serves you right.”
I gave up my futile mission of air-removing the brownie mix and sighed. “Now you’re going to have more laundry to wash,” I pointed out. “Nice.”
I hurried out of the kitchen, ignoring my mom’s laughter as I stalked back through the living room and headed upstairs. Upstairs wasn’t really the most interesting of things. There were four bedrooms and a bathroom. That was it. Garrett’s and my bedrooms were on opposite ends, while my parents’ room and the spare room were on the sides. The bathroom had its own side all to itself. Such a lucky ducky.
I trotted into my bedroom, shutting my door softly behind me. My bedroom was actually clean for once—I’d spent two hours cleaning it this past weekend. My bedroom sat in the far right corner, the window right next to the end of it. My bureau stood a little ways away from my bed, a little cluttered from when I’d gotten tired of cleaning and just haphazardly organized objects on top. Across the room was a small stand, holding my assorted books, and other objects I’d adored when I was younger. My television set—which hadn’t really worked in two years—sat on top.
I pulled off my socks and chucked them into the hamper next to my bureau. I opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a new, pretty much identical pair of anklets. I threw them on before quickly changing into my pajama shorts and changing into a tank top. Ah, the sweet bliss of comfortable clothes.
I paused in front of the mirror that hung off my door, making a few funny faces to amuse myself. I couldn’t help but poke at the tearing sticker of hello kitty on the side. I’d put it there when I was obsessed with hello kitty when I was like thirteen. How it was still on the mirror, I’d never know. Hello kitty power I guessed.
I strode down the stairs and back into the living room. I plopped back on the couch and reached for the remote on the small coffee table residing in front of it. I kicked back, resting my feet on the table before turning on the TV.
No homework days, as rare as they were, rocked.
My mom appeared from the kitchen, the bowl of probably dead brownie mix missing from her hands. “No homework?”
I shook my head, grinning. “Nope!”
My mom’s eyebrows rose. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Positive.”
She strutted into the room. “So, how was school?”
Lunch flashed again. I sighed, annoyed with myself that I’d given into Kyla’s peer pressure. What had it done for me? Absolutely nothing. Well, unless you counted losing a perfectly good apple to the cafeteria floor and a boy you despised.
“Fine,” I replied finally. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.
Her eyes narrowed, catching something in my tone. “You lying to me?”
“Nope.”
“Okay,” she said slowly before plopping beside me. She was lucky that she didn’t get any brownie mix on her pants or she’d be flipping out about it later. “So you’re hiding something then.”
I cocked an eyebrow in her direction. She was giddy. I didn’t really understand why she was giddy. I mean, I hadn’t told her anything. But, there she was, practically acting like Kyla while staring at me with expectant eyes.
“No, I’m not,” I denied, shaking my head.
My mom stared at me. “Yes, you are!” she sang.
Oh gosh, here we go. She was at the point where she wasn’t going to give up until I fed her some information. “Fine,” I said, playing with the bottom of my pajama shorts. “Kyla was bugging me about boyfriends again.” I looked up at her. “Happy?”
My mom shook her head, grinning. “What else?”
I sighed, my hands flying up in exasperation. “I talked to this guy named Dannon today,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“Ooh!” she squealed, her eyes widening. “Is there finally a boy that you like?”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Of course not.”
My mom tilted her head to the side, wriggling her eyebrows. “I don’t believe you,” she said simply.
“Mom.” I gave her a pointed look. “I don’t like him. Besides, he’s the most popular guy at school.”
That additional comment probably wasn’t helping my case any, but whatever. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now.
“Oh, I see,” she said, sniffing dramatically. “Don’t want to talk to your mom about your crushes. I see.”
I watched, disbelieved as she stood up, patting her apron. She held her head high—obviously fooling around with me—and play-stalked to the kitchen, swearing that she would get to the bottom of my so-called “crush” on Dannon.
I fell back on the couch, groaning and covering my eyes with my hands. She was probably going back to her brownies, and later she was going to make me try them. And then, if she was in an adoring mood, she was probably going to give me a baggie and tell me to give them to Dannon. Knowing her, she’d think that giving him delicious treats would make him return my supposed “love” for him.
Assumptions were so annoying.
I let out another groan as the phone began ringing, cutting off my favorite show in the world, Everybody Loves Raymond. He, coincidently, had the same last name as Dannon. I imagined him being related to the crazed Barone family inside the show and laughed. He’d probably be a lot less cheerful than he seemed to be.
I turned down the television’s volume and scooted up, trotting to the television stand before plucking the phone and pressing the Talk button. I brought it to my ear, muttering a soft, “Hello?”
I expected a business call from my mom. I expected a check-in call from Garrett. I expected anything than the voice that came through the receiver.
“Hey, is this Brianne?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, my mouth dropping open. What the hell?